


reminders

by SevenSoulmates, tkreyesevandiaz



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Excessive Poetic Use, Ficlet, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Neither Author Knows What This Is, Short & Sweet, Soft Eddie Diaz, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, lots of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenSoulmates/pseuds/SevenSoulmates, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkreyesevandiaz/pseuds/tkreyesevandiaz
Summary: In the end, they go back to where they came from, stumbling together through a world of uncertainty with nothing but each other and the presence of a little boy that keeps them grounded.Or, 1320 words of Buck and Eddie admiring each other's tattoos
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 36
Kudos: 237





	reminders

**Author's Note:**

> Do we know what happened here? No.
> 
> This was a quick drabble that we turned into a ficlet. Enjoy!

It starts simple enough.

Buck wants a new tattoo, Eddie wants a new tattoo but both of them are stumped on _what?_ What is significant enough for them to stamp onto their skin, leaving a mark of something important for them to look at. 

In the end, they go back to where they came from, stumbling together through a world of uncertainty with nothing but each other and the presence of a little boy that keeps them grounded.

Of course, that little boy gives both of them another idea, so instead of one, they both end up with two tattoos. Little presses of needles immortalizing their inspiration and a few strategically-placed bandages later, both men leave the tattoo parlour with wide smiles on their faces as they lace their fingers in the space between them. 

It seems significant; even more so than “I love you.”

Buck finds himself staring at the words on his collarbone as often as he can, a reminder that Eddie saw something in him that first day, despite the rough start. Reminders that Eddie’s not leaving him, reminders that he’s got someone of his own, too.

_You can have my back any day_

He looks just as often to the tattoo on his wrist, stroking a thumb along it and remembering an optimistic boy beaming like the sun. 

_Just keep swimming_

Buck often reminds himself that he’s got a family to get back to, people waiting for him under hopeful skies. He reminds himself that it’s not the end of the world if something doesn’t go his way - he reminds himself of the inspiration in the form of one ten-year-old’s mantra.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends more time brushing his fingers under his collarbone where the words are printed in the same script as the words around his forearm, instead of looking at it. It doesn’t matter if his fingers are on bare skin, or if he can see the tattoo or not; he knows the words like his own heart, burrowed into every part of his soul.

 _You could have mine_

He reminds himself that he is enough for the love of his life, for his son. He reminds himself that the man he loves, all those years ago, placed his blind trust in Eddie’s abilities when he climbed into the back of that ambulance with him. He reminds himself that Buck still does it, to this day, trusts Eddie to catch him when he falls.

Just as often, Eddie finds his eyes drifting to the text on the inside of his wrist, a nail scraping over eight letters that changed his life, sitting on a porch in front of his parents’ house in Texas.

_Together_

He reminds himself that his son leans on him with no hesitation, simply because he loves him. He reminds himself that his son thinks he’s a hero, and his happy, optimistic child is proof that Eddie went _right_ somewhere. He reminds himself that he was strong enough to want a new life away from all the judging, sympathetic looks of El Paso, that he was strong enough to seize the opportunity for it.

The matching scripts intertwine in their lives in beautiful ways, in swatches of tan skin and dark ink, of pebbled flesh and poetry imprinted in the song of their story.

When opportunity allows for the two of them to be alone in the house, Eddie learns quickly that Buck doesn’t prefer wearing a shirt. The new tattoos change that particular precipice quickly for him, because Eddie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to the scroll of his words on Buck’s collarbones.

There are moments where Eddie has to remind himself that he doesn’t have to hide away anymore; he’s Buck’s, and Buck’s his, and he can reach out for him without having to suppress every need to just _love_ him freely. Buck smiles softly at him as Eddie strokes the skin of his collarbone, hearing the echo of his own voice with each letter and goose bump on the canvas of Buck’s body.

Eddie’s not like that, much to Buck’s indignation - his shirt stays on more often than not. Buck will occasionally catch glimpses of his words printed on his partner’s chest while they change at the station. In those moments, Buck can’t do anything but stare, quelling his desire and hoping Eddie catches a hint. But when they’re in their bedroom...all bets are off. Suddenly, Buck can lean down to flutter kisses across the bone, now adorned in the text that brought them here.

And in the mornings?

It’s Eddie’s favourite thing to do on lazy mornings; he’ll wake up draped across his partner’s broad chest, legs tangled with one another's in a knot of love and implication, all with the reminder of the other half of himself in the form of seven carefully chosen words. It’s a struggle to hold himself back from ghosting his lips across the script, so he gives in, the reminder soothing the rough edges of insecurity that surge through him.

Buck will blink awake from Eddie’s ministrations, a slow smile growing across his sleep-soft face at Eddie’s unabashed adoration - something Buck only gets to see in the safe, subdued space of their bedroom. Eddie was never this open outside the four walls of their home, showing his love for Buck in more subtle ways.

Eddie can’t stop admiring the patterns of ink littering his partner's body, often spending a good portion of their time alone just tracing the lines. He learns that most of the tattoos held no real meaning; the two rings around his forearm were for the aesthetic. The geometric shapes on his left pectoral, now covered in traces of Eddie’s affection, were because “it looked cool.” It takes a while to coax the meaning of the quote on his forearm, but when he learns it, Eddie feels the honor and privilege his partner grants him like a second heart.

So he opens up about his own, even though there aren’t that many. He talks about the ring of letters around his forearm, ironically in a similar spot to Buck’s, that remind him of strength. He tells him about the word on the inside of his wrist.

“This one means the most to me,” Buck says, tapping his collarbone and stroking his fingers across the twin ink. “It’s my favourite.”

Eddie only smiles at the reminder, the blazing adoration of brilliant blue eyes engulfing him in something he wasn’t about to let go of, ever. Something strong, potent - something that dizzied him just as much as it tethered him to this life.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers, mirroring Buck’s gesture to trace a nail across the fateful words - the ones that had given him one of the best things in his life. He follows the slight sting with his lips and his fingers drift downwards to hover over three words written on the inside of Buck’s wrist, flat against his pulse. “This one’s my favourite of yours.”

Buck melts under his touch, turning warm and pliant under the easy affection as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist. “They’re reminders, of my family. Of something that’s just mine.”

“This is a reminder, too,” Eddie says, drumming his fingers on his own chest, right where he knows the words have branded themselves in every layer of him. “Of my love.”

Eddie watches his partner come to life with three vulnerable words from a man with lifetimes of stoicism, smiling softly as Buck moves a hand to cup his face. It's easy to be open with his partner in front of him, always looking at him with encouraging eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers quietly, gently capturing Eddie’s lips with his own.

As the text on their collarbones line up with the muted press of their bodies, fitting into place like puzzle pieces, Eddie thinks to himself...that’s a reminder, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos make our day!
> 
> Come see us on Tumblr at [zeethebooknerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zeethebooknerd) and [SevenSoulmates](https://sevensoulmates.tumblr.com/)


End file.
